Here's to Happily Ever After
by GalaxieGurl
Summary: The continuing friendship/romance of Charlie Burns and Prentice Perotta, begun in my 2017 Christmas gift fic by 554Laura.
1. Chapter 1

Here's to Happily Ever After

 **A/N: I wonder why people always seem to hide jewelry for future gift-giving in their sock drawers? I thoroughly relished 554Laura's fanfic Christmas story gift about Booth's faithful agent, Charlie Burns playing Santa Claus, albeit reluctantly, for the FBI children's Christmas party. And her introduction of Peyton Perotta's sister Prentice made me decide to add a bit more to that story. So, here's a peek ahead into their New Year. Not sure how involved this continuation will become. Real life in 2018 is stacking up to be crazily busy for me, but I'm gonna try.**

Charlie Burns slid into the seat of his SUV, wishing for the millionth time that the Bureau would spring for heated seats in their agents' cars. The subterranean Hoover parking structure, constructed of solid concrete, retained the cold ferociously and chilled all the official vehicles very effectively.

Belting himself in, he noticed his torso was a bit slimmer lately. Spending time with Prentice was so much more fun than Saturdays watching televised football games with Artie the cat, munching sour cream onion chips. Smiling to himself, he pulled out of the parking garage to pick up Prentice from her dental appointment.

The pair now shared a fourth-floor loft apartment in Adams Morgan, not far from Booth's old place above the Sportsman's liquor store. Their renovated older building was well-maintained, and the place they'd rented had vintage amenities lacking in the newer sprawling suburban complexes they'd bypassed. The larger closets, Craftsman woodwork, and warm oak floors reminded them both of childhood homes in Minneapolis.

They each had a bathroom, shared the larger sunny bedroom, and furnished the smaller one as an office. The remodeling contractor had installed a well-designed Pottery Barn Murphy wall unit whose desk surface maintained its orientation even when the queen bed was in use by overnight guests.

Charlie had decided any future house they bought would definitely include this innovative feature. His remarking as much to Booth and Wendell during their Super Bowl party had the trio mulling how to design and build one.

Pulling up to the medical building, Charlie patted his pocket. He pulled into a 15-minute parking spot and texted Prentice. A few minutes later, she appeared in the revolving door smiling at him. He hopped out of the car, opened her door, and kissed her cheek.

"Ooh, huh-eee, my mouf is numb!" she muttered as best she could.

"No matter, you can kiss me double later tonight to compensate," he replied with a grin.

Planning ahead, Charlie had ordered their favorite sandwiches and soup from the diner, hiding them and a bottle of wine in his SUV. He pulled into traffic and headed for the Tidal Basin.

"Where're we goin', Char-eee?" Prentice asked. "Work's the ov-er way!"

"Pren, it's 4:55. No one's gonna expect us back this afternoon. I asked Helen Rooney to cover my weekly agent meeting, and your assistant knows you had three fillings done today," Charlie assured her. "Can't I take my best girl for a drive to admire the cherry blossoms?"

Prentice stopped trying to talk, and gave him a shy smile.

"I've always loved the history behind DC getting the flowering cherry trees," Charlie continued. "They are just beginning to bloom, a little late this year, kinda like my life in general until I met you, Prentice."

"A strong-minded lady like you, Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore, was the National Geographic Socieity's first female board member. She traveled extensively in the Far East with her brother, a career diplomat there from 1884 to 1922. George H. Scidmore was U.S. Consul General at Yokohama, Japan, and his diplomatic connections gave his sister access to places ordinary travelers never saw. Traveling in Japan, she was captivated by the ephemeral beauty of cherry tree blossoms, and resolved to introduce them back in the U.S."

"She approached the Army Superintendent of Public Buildings and Grounds about planting cherry trees along the Potomac River waterfront for 24 years before First Lady Helen Taft became interested. In 1912, 3020 cherry trees were donated by the city of Tokyo to celebrate the friendly relationship between the US and Japan. In the years since World War II, our Forest Service has assisted Japan in maintaining their cherry trees with occasional donations of descendant trees from those originals which suffered wartime and weather damage."

Prentice smiled fondly, listening to Charlie's impromptu lecture. In addition to his kind pleasant nature, the unassuming FBI agent was an intelligent man with wide-ranging interests. Once they reached the Tidal Basin, the couple admired the freshly-erupted pale pink blossoms and numerous tiny buds as Charlie steered the SUV slowly along the curving waterfront road. There were few other cars in West Potomac Park this mid-April afternoon, since most Washingtonians were engrossed in rush hour traffic.

He stopped the car in front of the John Ericsson National Memorial, one of his favorite spots in the park. A Swedish engineer, Ericsson invented the revolutionary screw propeller and designed the Civil War-era USS _Monitor._ Like his dad, Charlie served in the Navy and enjoyed naval history. There weren't many picnic tables near the parking area and the park was still soggy from recently-melted snow.

The broad steps of Ericsson's memorial offered a perfect spot for their impromptu supper. He opened the SUV for Prentice and removed the diner food and wine from the trunk. Spreading an olive green wool army surplus blanket, which was scratchy but resisted moisture, he seated her with a flourish and pulled her insulated container of soup from his insulated bag. Prentice laughed in delighted surprise.

Warmed by hours of sunshine, the marble steps made a pleasant picnic spot. Charlie filled two acrylic wine glasses and handed one to his girlfriend. They ate in silence, watching faint reddish streaks beginning to paint the sky as sunset approached. Popping the last bite of roast beef, provolone, and whole wheat berry bread into his mouth, Charlie stood up, bowed formally, and reached into his pocket. As Prentice watched, he sank to one knee and gently took her hand. Her eyes widened.

"You must know how I feel about you, Prentice. You're the sweetest woman I've ever met, considerate, gentle, giving, and kind. I'd like to share my life with you, if you'll have me. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Oh, Char-eee! Of cour-! Why'd ya do thfis when my mouf is num?"

"I love your mouth, however it is, and you too! All of you, all the time!"

He opened the small black velvet box, and presented it to her. Nestled inside was a gold band with a recessed center diamond flanked by single smaller ones on each side.

"This was my Granma's ring, when Granpa proposed before he left for Korea in 1951 He bought her a fancier one for their silver anniversary, and Mom saved this one for me."

He slipped it onto her left hand. The gold metal widened across the top of her finger, curved to accommodate the white gold three-stone setting. Prentice gazed at it, then at Charlie, nodding brightly as she swiped at a few tears. They wrapped each other into a hug, and forgot the beautiful blossoms overhead, lost in their happiness.

"I feel like I've come home," he murmured into her hair.

"Me, too, Char-eee, me too. I'm so g-ad you a-ked me." She whispered back.

oooooooooo

In early May, at the Washington Navy Yard Chapel of the Four Chaplains, Charlie Burns and Prentice Perotta were married in a simple ceremony, their families and close friends in attendance. Christine Booth was the flower girl, Booth stood up with his friend as best man, and Peyton served as her sister's matron of honor. Prentice wore a tailored white suit, and Charlie was handsome in his Navy Reserve uniform.

After a brief appearance at the reception, the couple drove to the Washington Navy Lodge in Anacostia and forgot about the outside world as they came together, breaking Booth's laws of physics. The next morning they meandered south, exploring as they drove to South Carolina. The 10-hour trip seemed to fly past as they watched scenery, talked about the future, and stopped for food along the way. Arriving late at Charleston AFB, they slept soundly in each other's arms, sated and blissful.

Early the next morning the couple drove on to Naval Station Mayport where Charlie had once been stationed. The relatively short 4-hour trip left them time to watch the ocean sunset on this Atlantic edge of northern Florida before a leisurely, large, and very early dinner. There was important very personal activitiy ahead. They checked into their room in mid-afternoon, and didn't surface til morning.

They dozed off after hours of love-making, lulled to sleep by the waves. Hand in hand, over the next few days, they explored the beach, finding shells and shark teeth, splashed, waded, swam, and went for runs along a path on the inland side of the dunes.

The pair thoroughly enjoyed the solitude of a lovely place emptied of crowds between spring break and summer vacation. The Navy Lodge was quiet and comfortable. One memorable day was spent fishing off the coast in a chartered boat. Its captain took them up to the Gullah Geechee Cultural Heritage Corridor, where he'd grown up. They pulled into a tiny picturesque bay and had lunch with his delightful great-grandmother.

Prentice could have listened to her stories for hours. She knew Dr. Brennan would be fascinated to hear of their experiences. On the way back, Charlie caught red fish, tarpon, and sea trout. Prentice managed to land a flounder. They released all the fish, except for the flounder, which Cpt. Abram requested for his family's dinner that night.

At Brennan's suggestion, they drove a short distance south to watch newly-hatched baby sea turtles dig their way out of the sand, and instinctively head for the ocean. For these tiny creatures, the short span was a herculean journey.

Early the last morning of their honeymoon, Charlie and Prentice grabbed a quick breakfast at the Mayport Navy Lodge, left a tip for the housekeeper, thanked the front desk clerk and checked out. On a whim, while they were eating, Charlie googled the Air Mobility Command website, logged into its Space-Available Military Flight app on his phone, and signed up for the DC flight wait list. It was worth a shot, he decided. If there were no seats available, they'd just have to drive back up to the capital tomorrow. That was not a prospect he relished. Coming down, he and Prentice had taken their time. Deadheading it back for work Monday would make for a taxing trip.

The couple drove the hour to NAS Jacksonville, dropped off their rental car, and checked in at the military Space-A flight travel desk, leaving their cell phone numbers. Then they walked across the base to the commissary and bought a few small gifts for Peyton, her mom, Cooper, and little Jeremy. After paying for their purchases, they caught a shuttle bus to Aircraft Heritage Park, and walked among the static displays of historic warplanes.

They wandered through the small U.S. Military Air Power Museum, which seeks to preserve historic aircraft from all branches of the American military. Still waiting to hear their flight status, Prentice and Charlie noticed brightly-colored placards announcing plans for the USS Adams Museum, which would showcase the guided missile destroyer USS Charles F. Adams (DDG-2) in a U.S. Naval warship floating museum. Housed on base during planning and development, these two nascent institutions would energize tourism in the city of Jacksonville, attracting an influx of visitors to its northeastern corner of Florida.

Suddenly Charlie's phone chimed. Then Prentice heard hers as well. They'd made it onto the flight manifest!

Charlie figured, in later years, that his living by the rules must have been rewarded at that moment, for they had snagged two seats back home on a red-eye flight to Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling. The pair grabbed a quick dinner of seafood and salad at a café near flight operations, then checked in plenty early and walked to the flight lounge to await their boarding call. Prentice set her cell phone alarm for a pre-flight bathroom break, and promptly dozed off against Charlie's shoulder. He glanced down at the ring on her left hand, smiled in satisfaction, leaned his head on hers, and closed his eyes to catch a nap before midnight takeoff.

A few hours later, accustomed to packing lightly, with only a backpack each, he and Prentice settled into the C-40's comfortable upright seats. To maximize passenger capacity, these didn't recline like a civilian Boeing 737's, but neither cared. Delighted to avoid another ten-hour car trip, they were euphoric.

Once he knew they were ticketed for the Space-A flight, Charlie had called Agent Harris early in the evening to drive his car to Anacostia. Morris readily agreed, declaring that the taxi fare back to the Bureau would be his wedding gift to his boss.

Mr. and Mrs. Charlie Burns landed an hour and 47 minutes later and made it home by 2:30 am. They hopped in the shower together for the first business-only soaping they'd ever shared, then hit their pillows with drowsy hugs and kisses.

As he closed his eyes, Charlie knew that heading in to work the next morning would be tough, but he didn't care. It was the first day of their happily-ever-after together. How could a plain Jane guy like him be so lucky?

 **A/N: Okay, I know I may have taken some liberties with the DOD Lodging system and Space Available flights, even for a military wife, but what the heck? This is fan fiction. And veterans deserve the very best lucky breaks!**


	2. Chapter 2

A whistling Charlie Burns got off the elevator and headed for the break room out of habit. He grabbed a filter out of the overhead cabinet and started a pot of coffee. The Bureau alternated between Folgers and Maxwell House, whichever brand was the lower contract bidder. Charlie mused as he waited for the carafe to fill. He had grown up with 'the best part of waking up' since his parents were confirmed Folgers users. His grandparents had always used Maxwell House, since his grandfather was a great admirer of Theodore Roosevelt, and declared that if it was good enough for Teddy, he was satisfied with the same brand.

When Charlie was five years old, his younger sister Helen was born. He'd spent several days with Granpa Fred while Grammy Celeste took care of his mother and the baby. Standing on a stool beside the older man each morning, Charlie had 'helped' cook breakfast, watching the coffee preparation with interest. A great admirer of Theodore Roosevelt, his grandfather had recounted hearing how the former president had drunk a cup of Maxwell House Coffee while visiting Andrew Jackson's home The Hermitage in Nashville in October 1907, and declared it 'good to the last drop.'

So, if his family had produced flavorful, fragrant coffee for years brewing these two stalwart American brands, how was it that the coffee at the FBI was such swill? He'd personally run vinegar through the machine to no avail. Sighing, he filled a mug, took a sip, made a face, and walked back to his desk.

Settling in his chair, he opened a file and read for a few minutes. Too soon he wished he and Prentice were still at Mayport. Normally he enjoyed arriving early at the office, being the first one in, able to concentrate intently while the bullpen was silent. But this latest case had his team stymied.

Taking another gulp of coffee, Charlie skimmed the most recent notations, dismayed that so little progress had been made during his extended wedding weekend absence. The victim had been found dumped in a landfill, and the site's extensive debris was complicating Dr. Hodgins' tasks beyond belief.

The significance of dentritis and particulates, which he could normally interpret so skillfully were clouded; obscured by layers of household refuse and a dried sludge of acidic industrial waste. Absent-mindedly twisting the smooth new white gold band on his finger, the agent wracked his brain. Could the corrosive chemicals offer a clue? Was it a unique formulation? If he could determine their origin, the corporation using this cleaner, he might narrow down when they had been disposed of. This information could offer another site to be searched; perhaps where the victim had been killed.

Charlie reached for his office phone, punched in Dr. Hodgins' Jeffersonian extension, and waited hopefully through several rings. He knew the scientist usually arrived early, but the man possessed intense focus and concentration. When he was absorbed in running a test, it often took him a bit to answer a call.

"Montenegro."

Ah, Angela was in her husband's office, Charlie realized.

"Hey, Angela, it's Charlie Burns."

"You're back! How was the whirlwind honeymoon? Were you tempted to stay on Gullah Gullah Island forever?" she teased.

Charlie chuckled, remembering the Nickelodeon show his younger brothers had watched.

"Yeah, it was wonderful! The boat captain's great-granny and Prentice did try to lure me into staying longer. Thanks for suggesting that fishing trip. We plan to go back next summer and explore their heritage center. It's a fascinating place and I could listen to their lilting accent for hours. I found a unique shell necklace for Prentice. You should become a travel agent, Angela!"

The artist laughed. "You're calling for Jack, right? Awfully early to be in the office your first day back, Agent Burns."

"Blame that on Prentice; she had a meeting this morning. And yes, may I speak to Dr. Hodgins?"

"Ok, lover boy, I'll let you get down to business. Just don't run my husband late for our lunch date at the diner with some long-winded testing request!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Angela; and thanks again!"

"Agent Burns! Good to have you back, man, how can I help you?" Hodgins asked.

"Is there a way to pinpoint what company uses that corrosive cleaner you found on the landfill evidence? I thought we might backtrack to their plant location and figure out where this victim was attacked."

"Hmmm, smart idea. Maybe you should be working over here rather than at the Hoover. Actually, I devised some additional tests to run on that substance while you were gone. The processing takes a while to complete, but I came in Saturday to finish up, and Sunday to analyze the results. You are correct."

"It's a unique acidic washing agent the Haney Corporation developed for their manufactured parts. They are able to re-use the slurry for three batches, and then discard it. While very corrosive, it breaks down into environmentally-acceptable forms, so they're allowed to dump it in the landfill. I was planning to call Agent Shaw this morning with the information in your absence."

"Angie was convinced you'd extend your honeymoon. I guess she's lost the bet she made with Brennan. Loser pays for lunch tomorrow at the diner. You and Prentice should come too!"

"Thanks to your wife, our honeymoon was too memorable for me to do that to her, Dr. Hodgins. The Gullah Geechee area is amazing. Can you courier those results to me…..no, on second thought, I need to get out of here for a bit. I'll come over and pick them up in an hour. Thanks, Dr. Hodgins; I think you cracked this case!"

Charlie hung up his phone, pushed back his chair and stood up, just as Booth came striding down the hall.

"Welcome back, man! How was your momentous weekend?"

Clapping his senior agent on the back, Booth grinned widely and shook his hand.

"Wonderful, Booth, just way too short!"

"Dr. Hodgins figured out the source of that acidic substance coating the landfill debris. We have a plant site to check out; maybe where the victim was attacked and killed."

Knowing Booth's gambling history, Charlie didn't mention Angela's bet. He admired his boss's willpower but there was no reason to rub salt in an old wound, or trigger temptation.

"I thought we might trace the acid to a manufacturing site, but Dr. Hodgins was one step ahead."

"Jack is an amazing guy; as much a genius on particulates as Bones is with bones!" Booth chortled at his own joke.

"I bet she's sick of that remark, Booth!"

Yup, I've worn it out with her, Charlie. But they are, off the chart smart, both of them. We're lucky they're on our side. We'd never solve any cases if that pair were the bad guys!"

"Well, maybe we can put this one to bed soon, Booth. I hope so. Almost wish Prentice and I had stayed around Mayport longer. Gullah Geechee is intriguing."

"Bones has been talking about leasing another beach house next summer. Maybe we should find one down that way, and have several families share the cost. It's too far to commute back to DC, but would be nice spending a week or two there."

"Great idea, Boss."

"Hey, that my cousin; I'm not Gibbs!"

 **A/N: No writing ideas have struck me for a while, until this morning. Seeking inspiration, I've been re-reading some favorite stories, a sort of homage to Barbara Bush's dedication to literacy. Politics aside, she was an amazing matriarch.**


	3. Chapter 3 Christening

Charlie Burns

Caroline Julian slid her Hornet into a parking space in front of the stately Gothic church, exited the car, and smoothed her dress. She checked her refection in the rear window to be sure her hat was just so, and walked toward the broad front entrance steps. Never in a million years would she have pictured herself being a godmother again. Sure she'd acted as such for several nephews and nieces back in Thibodaux, but never in DC.

When Prentice and Charlie Burns had asked her during lunch at the Royal Diner to be godmother for their soon-to-arrive first child, she was honored and speechless. A very unusual sensation, indeed. The federal prosecutor was rarely caught without words. A tender smile had softened her face as she softly assented.

"I'd be honored, you two. But isn't there some family member you'd rather ask?"

"No, Ms. Julian, you're both our first choice. There's no one more qualified to be sure our child is raised properly," Charlie declared. "All your bluster is just that. You're one of the kindest souls in this city, and besides my brother Greg, I don't have many relatives. Men don't make very good godmothers, you know."

Prentice reached over and patted Caroline's hand. "When I first transferred to DC, my sister told me to listen whenever you spoke. She said you are one of the best prosecutors the Feds have, and I could learn a great deal about proper legal proceedings and case preparation from you. We hope our child can absorb your down to earth wisdom and emulate your unwavering integrity as he or she matures, Ms. Julian."

Misty-eyed, the lawyer gazed fondly at the couple seated across from her.

"You two stop this 'Ms. Julian' nonsense. It's _Tante_ Caroline from now on. Well, maybe not at the office, Charlie, but you know what I mean. If David Barron ever shows his face around here, he's _Nonc_ David, you hear? That man gives the best piggy-back rides in all N'awlins! Our little _chaton_ used to squeal with glee…" her voice faded off as she reminisced about her daughter's childhood.

oooooooooooo

Grasping the scrolled metal handrail, Caroline marched up the church steps, opened the heavy oak door, and stepped inside. The cool shadowed interior of the edifice made her smile, remembering Sunday mornings spent in a similar place, squirming in her itchy Sunday best under her _maman's_ disapproving eye. She spotted Charlie and Prentice talking quietly to the rector near the baptistry. Their baby son was fussing in his father's arms.

She walked softly up the aisle, and crossed in front of the altar with a slight nod of her head. Greeting the slightly frazzled parents, she reached for her godson.

"Here, let me take him. Ma petit Thomas Charles will behave for his Nanan, won't you, bebe?"

The little boy gave her a gummy grin, and burbled happily.

"Pastor Simmons, this is Ms. Caroline Julian," Prentice introduced her to the minister.

The heavy oak door creaked again as Greg Burns entered the church. He strode quickly down the aisle and quietly apologized for being late. Charlie made the introductions and the minister reassured the nervous godfather.

"You're fine, Mr. Burns. We don't have another service until this evening, so no worries. Shall we get started, and welcome this little man into God's family?"

ooooooooooooo

Once the ceremony concluded, the group headed to a nearby Bowie Town Center pastry shop, Heaven Sent Cupcakery, which despite its specialty name, also made Charlie's preferred style of croissants fresh each morning. Shortly before Mother's Day, he had discovered that they offered an exquisite pop tart variation called an 'apple hand pie' which quickly became Prentice's new favorite. In chatting with the owner early on a recent Tuesday morning, Charlie learned that because her family hailed from south Louisiana, she made (upon request) small batches of beignets, Caroline Julian's beloved Southern favorite.

Between powdered sugary mouthfuls, the usually dignified lawyer praised their light delicate goodness, much to the baker's delight. The two ladies launched into a discussion of Louisiana cuisine, comparing their grandmothers' recipes. Before long, Charlie and Prentice were lost in a fog of Cajun cooking terms; _poivron, andouille, chaudin, roux, etoufee, couche, maque choux, boudin_ ; on and on. The only word they recognized was _gumbo_.

They were rescued when the bell over the shop's front door jingled as a customer entered to pick up her daughter's birthday cupcake order. Since the prosecutor lived in Alexandria, she'd had few occasions to visit Bowie, Maryland in the past. But that, Caroline declared, was about to change. The rector's pastry of choice was a blueberry muffin chock full of fresh fruit.

"Ms. Hanson, I believe your cupcake shop has become a fixture of our community more quickly than any other eating establishment in the area," he complimented the baker. "Our hospitality committee is convinced your donuts have increased our weekly attendance as well as church donations!"

"Thank you, Pastor Mullins; I'm glad to hear your parishioners enjoy them. We've had several new customers remark that is why they stopped in for a purchase. So it's a helpful arrangement for both of us!"

The rector thanked Charlie and Prentice for the tasty breakfast, and headed back to his church. Following Booth's suggestion, Charlie and Prentice had found a fixer-upper duplex on a U.S. Marshals' auction, where Sweets had once bought Daisy a birthday Vespa. When they drove Caroline over to see the remodeling Wendell was helping with, she grew teary remembering Sweets' wearing a powder blue 'Easter Egg' around the FBI bullpen to make sure that the helmet fit comfortably.

Renting out one side of the duplex and living in the other reduced the Burns' mortgage enough to allow an extended three-month maternity leave for Prentice. Peyton had suggested this to her sister, since Tommy would be sleeping through the night before she returned to her FBI duties. Caroline commented how placid the little boy was, calmly dozing off in her arms during his christening.

"It's your talent for cuddling little ones, Ms. Julian," Prentice told her with a smile. "Tommy seemed to relax the moment you held him. We were so frenetic getting everyone ready on time, it wasn't very peaceful around our house this morning! You were a welcome oasis of peace for him, I think!"

"Nonsense, Cher, he was just ready for a nap!"

The baby in question began to whimper and fuss, squirming in his infant seat.

"I believe Tommy thinks it's time to go home. Time for a diaper change, no doubt," Prentice remarked. "Even this young, he wiggles when he's soaked."

"You have a smart little boy there, Cher," Caroline chuckled. "I've worn out my welcome; gotta head back into the city. It's a ways out here, isn't it? Good thing DC has strong public transit!"

"We both get a lot done on the Metro, so once we're home, we focus on Tommy. It would be nice to live closer, but we were tired of apartments and wanted a yard for him."

That's a fact of life in the Capital city, ne c'est pas?"

"Caroline, thank you for being Tommy's godmother. It means so much to us."

"You two honored me by asking; merci! See you on Monday." And with that, Caroline climbed back into her yellow Hornet for the trip home. The young parents looked down at their sleeping child, and smiled at each other, Charlie stifling a yawn in the process.

"I think all three of us can use a nap when we get home, don't you, Pren?"

"Definitely!"

 **AN: If my Wikipedia research is correct,** _ **chaton**_ **means** _ **kitten**_ **in Cajun French. I'm not enough of a gourmet cook to explain all the cooking terms I found on Wikipedia. Suffice it to say, the experienced cooks of Louisiana are masters of their craft. But then, aren't all granmas? Mine certainly were!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 A Burns Turns One

Glaring at the stack of case files he had yet to review and sign off on, Charlie Burns checked his wrist watch and sighed. 3:45 p.m. Booth and Brennan were conducting a training seminar at Quantico and Camp Peary for the FBI and CIA respectively, and their month-long series of lectures meant that Charlie was stuck doing paperwork his boss normally handled.

Today was his son's first birthday, and the senior agent didn't want to be later for dinner. Granted, the little boy was unaware of the day's significance to his parents, and would happily squeal at his daddy's arrival home, and gum his way through his evening meal as he always did. Prentice had been concerned that Tommy only 4 teeth, but their pediatrician assured her that each baby's development schedule varies slightly from the norm, and her child was progressing very well.

 _Prentice…_.

Charlie gazed at her picture on the corner of his desk, and smiled to himself. He was still awe-struck that he'd found happiness with such an amazing woman, and gained a wonderful family life he'd never envisioned being possible a few years earlier….

He rolled his shoulders, and straightened in his chair. Reminding himself that pleasant day-dreaming was counterproductive at this point, Charlie grabbed the next manila folder on the pile and flipped it open. Agnes Hannaford was a newbie, but had excellent potential. Her mentoring partner, Fred Thompson was doing a great job of guiding her.

The status report Aggie had filled out was concise but detailed, and the pair's investigation was progressing well. Charlie scribbled a few questions on a yellow post-it, and stuck the square note on the top page for Thompson's review with his junior agent the next morning before their weekly staff meeting, so that the pair could provide him with answers.

Working his way through the next several reports, Agent Burns alternately smiled and grimaced in response to what he read. He'd have a few commendations, suggestions, and chidings to deliver early tomorrow. Better alert Prentice they'd need to leave the house a bit sooner than normal, and bring in some donuts from Heaven Scent for his people. Warm, delectable pastries always encouraged team effort….

Vaguely aware that the elevator chimed down the hall, Charlie reached for the last folder and scanned its contents. Each pair of partners had two or three assigned cases and this one of Hannaford's and Thompson's was developing as well as their others. He reached for his miniature pad, made a few notes, and slapped the sticky note onto the page. Done at las…

A merry chortle interrupted his thoughts. Filling the office doorway was Prentice with Tommy in her arms.

"Dadadadada!" the little boy crowed, and leaned forward, reaching his tiny arms as far as they'd stretch. His mother bent down and set him on his feet. With lurching steps too fast for his recently-acquired walking ability, Tommy toddled toward his father's desk, trippeda and landed on his tummy. Undeterred, he looked up with a wide, drooly grin. "Dada!"

Quickly, Charlie flipped the folder shut, grabbed and straightened the stack, opened his file drawer, slid the paperwork inside, and locked his desk. Rising from his office chair, he stepped over and scooped up his son.

"Hey, Big Fellow! Mommy already picked you up from daycare? You two are moving too fast for your old man!"

Prentice watched her husband and son proudly, and leaned in for the kiss Charlie delivered.

"I thought we could stop at the Royal Diner for a quick bite, and take him to the park before bedtime," she said softly.

"Good idea, Pren! He'll enjoy the swings and the ducks more than presents today. Mema and Poppy will enjoy watching him rip into the paper when they arrive this weekend. Kid's gonna relish the boxes more than their contents anyway!"

Pulling his suit jacket from the coat tree behind the office door, Charlie slung it over his shoulder and kissed his wife again.

"Which do you think he'll enjoy more? The workbench or the Mega Bloks set?"

I think he'll love both. Dr. Fenton said his motor skills are ahead of the curve."

"Good thing we got his shots done last week. No reason to mess up a boy's big day, right?"

"Nope, his arms aren't sore any more, thank goodness. So many shots for little kids these days!"

"Yeah, Peyton said the immunization schedules are earlier than what her kids experienced."

The family entered the elevator, and Tommy leaned toward the control panel. His parents had let him push the floor buttons as soon as he showed interest, and it was his favorite activity at Dad's office. Dr. Brennan had remarked that the boy seemed very bright to notice them so early, and Charlie had beamed with delight.

"Shall we walk over to the diner? The weather's pretty mild for April."

"Sure, I need the exercise. Being stuck behind my desk all afternoon has been no fun at all!"

Helen greeted the couple and patted Tommy's shoulder as she came over to take their orders.

"You two want your normal burgers?"

"Yes, Helen, please."

This little dude is really growing; how old is he now?"

"One year old today, in fact"

Really? That's a milestone! Can I bring him a cup of chocolate milk to celebrate? My grandkids love that better than cake!"

"That would be perfect, Helen. He loves milk, and chocolate Teddy Grahams. My sister's kids love those little crackers, and Tommy swiped a handful the last time he played with his cousins!" Prentice agreed, handing Helen her son's sippy cup.

"I'm sure Peyton's copy of Fearless Feeding probably proclaims that a 12-month old child is too young for chocolate milk consumption with every meal, but a kid only has one first birthday, and even a toddler's gotta live a little, right?" Charlie chimed in.

Once the kindly waitress returned with the birthday treat, Tommy Burns inhaled its chocolaty goodness, and waved the cup at his parents.

"Mo, Mo, Mama!" he chirped.

"You've had your limit, little boy," Prentice told him.

Once their burgers were gone, Charlie and Prentice ordered pie to go; chocolate for him, pecan for her. They would relish their desert at home with some wine once Tommy was asleep for the night.

The couple walked the few blocks back to the Hoover parking garage, with their son piggy-backed in his carrier, which Prentice kept in the backpack they used as a diaper bag. Driving home, the toddler dozed off so they dispensed with bath time and tucked their growing baby into his crib.

Standing side by side, peeking over his crib, they watched Tommy sleep.

"Can you believe he's already turned one; where has this year disappeared?" Prentice whispered.

Charlie put his arm around her shoulder, kissed her soundly, and answered softly, "I don't know, Pren, but you've made me the happiest FBI agent in DC."

"That goes double for me, Mr. Burns," she assured him.

"Now about that pie..."


	5. Chapter 5

Undercover Stress

Both Prentice and Charlie had been undercover before but this assignment was different. They had each received the requisite special training at Quantico, assumed alter-ego identities several times during their careers, and even pulled a joint assignment on one case. That had been the best scenario, and far less stressful, for there was no need to worry about one another's safety when they were side by side the entire time. It had only been permissible because they weren't formally dating at the time.

Their relationship had blossomed while Prentice was in transition training and Charlie was assigned to forensic accounting. Agents were not allowed to fraternize, but once they were married, the Bureau gave couples slightly more leeway. Once Tommy was born, the couple agreed that going undercover together would be irresponsible, exposing their son to the possible loss of both parents.

So it was that Prentice was stuck at home, going to and from the office and daycare, suffering the undercurrent of constant worry about her husband's wellbeing. Charlie had played the part of a 'mild-mannered Clark Kent' a number of times, portraying an adequately knowledgeable but clueless accountant. His slightly bumbling persona had been invaluable to the Bureau in cracking several RICO cases. His handlers were smart enough to use him sparingly, bringing him in as a contract or temporary hire, so that his identity was never compromised.

While he came across as a good ole' boy numbers guy, with a middling skill set, Charlie Burns was, in fact a very intelligent agent, with a razor-sharp mind. He could spot telltale patterns and trends within financial reports, overlooked by others, when a suspect had 'cooked the books'. Assuming his cover identity as a self-employed accountant had given him access to several mob-style organizations over the years. The FBI bosses were careful to end his 'contracts' with whatever group was being surveilled, and pull him back into the Hoover, before any accusations or arrests were made.

He was currently providing extra number-crunching manpower to Richard Heston, a road construction contractor in Fairmont, West Virginia suspected of bilking the government during repair projects on US 19 and US 250. The Mountain State Construction Company's latest contract was for maintenance on the Philippi Covered Bridge. Charlie Burns loved its place in West Virginia history. This double-barreled two-lane covered bridge utilized the Long Burr Arch Truss.

During the 19th century bidding process at the Board of Public Works in Richmond, its designer, Lemuel Chenoweth, had presented a humble unpainted model constructed of stout hickory wood, unimpressive among the fancier submissions. The architect, it is said, carefully balanced his model on two chairs, and proceeded to stand on his small bridge, which easily bore his weight. When challenged to do the same, his competitors declined, since their models would collapse when so tested. The well-known Appalachian bridge builder completed his full-size bridge in 1852. It was the first bridge by either side captured during the Civil War and Union troops used it as a barracks for a while.

Charlie had been working in Fairmont for a solid interminable four months, occasionally returning 'home' to Cumberland, Maryland to check on his 'elderly relatives'. During these visits, Prentice and he had reunited at Charlie's Aunt Violet's house. Between these hurried visits, Prentice could only stew, fret, and hope that her husband was safe. Although she knew he was working in an office, the threat of exposure by numerous people involved in the scam was ever-present. One person recognizing him would bring down the house of cards required to entrap the devious crooks.

It was far easier to be the person undercover than the mate waiting at home. Sometimes the net to capture bad guys took years to weave. She had heard the stories of Booth's faked death after being shot in a karaoke bar to draw out a criminal in hiding. Agent Genny Shaw had lost a partner during a drug bust the previous year, part of an operation five years in the making. Agent Tim Sullivan's partner had been killed in the line of duty; a casualty of a successful multi-state takedown.

Ironically, the owner of Mountain State Construction was Melvin Gallagher's godson. Charlie had mused to himself, and remarked to Prentice during their last weekend together, that crime families were like the Lernaean Hydra, growing another head whenever one was convicted. During their initial briefing, Booth recounted Gallagher's long string of misdeeds, warned Charlie of the intricate family connections among long-time residents of Marion County. Agent Burns would need to remain observant of those around him, vigilant regarding his circumstances, acutely mindful of what he revealed about himself.

"Don't trust anybody," Booth had said. "The secretaries, the motel clerks, the waitresses. . . you'll never know who's related to whom, where their loyalties lie, and who's a stoolie for who. Just watch yourself. Max says they're all snakes in the grass. The Cincinnati field office has detected ties between these creeps and McVicar's old cronies, two decades after the kingpins were jailed. They really are like Medusa, sprouting new snake heads."

Brennan had frowned at her husband. "Booth, it was the Hydra, not Medusa."

At last, Charlie's patient scrutiny of Mountain State Construction's books, under the guise of audit preparation, had revealed and compiled incriminating evidence of money laundering and racketeering. He had proclaimed his work complete and returned to his 'office in Baltimore' well before any search warrants were issued. As far as the crooks knew, IRS computer analysts had discovered their crimes.

Arrests of Heston and his accomplices were several weeks off when Charlie returned home. His pivotal role in the successful sting operation would never be recognized or praised, but he much preferred it that way. Safe anonymity kept his family life and career intact more effectively than award plaques to hang on the walls. And for now, Prentice could breathe easy again. Until the next time.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: For the purposes of this chapter, I've made an adjustment to the BSA membership timeline. Tiger Scouts can be kindergartners as they were when my son was little.

Booth was excited. Parker and Meredith were coming for a week with little Max Henry. The boy was almost five, and might not remember much about his grandfather's traditional Independence Day observance in the future, but some of his own earliest memories of summertime involved visiting long-gone comrades with Edwin and Pops. Different years found them at different cemeteries, mostly in Philly, once in D.C. when Pops had an FOP meeting in Alexandria, and Grams had decided to make a family vacation out of the occasion, inviting Marianne, Edwin and their two small sons to come along. They'd spent four days in an Albert Pick motel _with a pool_.

He remembered holding his mother's hand, walking through crowds of tourists, visiting various monuments, as his father pushed Jared's stroller. There was a picnic on the capitol grounds, with hot dogs and chips, rousing band music, and fireworks once it got dark. But their trip to Arlington had made the biggest impression on Booth They had packed Coca Cola and peanut butter sandwiches (Seeley's favorites back then) to share with James Rawlings, Pop's fellow MP. They placed flags for friends his father had lost in Vietnam, as he saluted each one. The vast expanse of perfect grass and endless rows of gleaming white headstones had been amazing to a six-year-old.

This year, Hank, Jr. had made Life Scout, and was busy planning his Eagle project. Christine had begun graduate school, and her trips home were infrequent. Having all his children home together would be an increasingly rare treat, and Booth intended to relish every moment of it. The Booth family pilgrimage to Arlington this year would be special indeed.

He knew a few of his FBI colleagues felt the same about patriotic holidays. July 4th and Memorial Day were about more than grilling steaks. Charlie Burns family had a long history of service in the Navy, extending back several generations. A few times over coffee, the two men had compared notes about growing up around military men. You'd better respect your mom, say 'yes sir', keep up your grades, and revere the flag.

In Booth's opinion, Charlie and Prentice were among the best agents at the Hoover. Like Genny Shaw, he counted them not only as valued co-workers; but as friends. Brennan invited young Tommy Burns over to play with Max and the two little boys hit it off right away. When Max begged to see Tommy again, Grammy Bones asked his parents to join the Booths' Fourth of July barbeque.

Aware of Booth's patriotism, Charlie had mentioned that his son's kindergarten Tiger Scout den was placing flags at Arlington on Independence Day, and heard how his boss had done the same since childhood. Thus it was that the Burns and the Booths gathered at the National Cemetery earlier than expected that morning. Parker, Christine, and Hank each remembered clutching fistfuls of miniature flags, following Booth along the rows of white marble markers as he paused to honor each of his buddies. Stop, bend to plant the flag, murmur a hello and a prayer, rise, straighten, salute smartly, and repeat.

They watched as Tommy joined his friends to get their flags. The youngest Scouts' bright orange Tiger Scout t-shirts stood out among the older boys' navy blue and khaki uniforms. Assisted by their parents, the littlest members stuck a flag in front of each grave marker as carefully as the Eagle Scouts were doing.

Holding Parker's hand, young Max watched all this with interest. His mother had tried to pick him up so he could see better amid the crowd, but that was for babies! He watched his grandfather's every move. The man was his idol, as tall as the moon, and gave the best piggy back rides a kid could ask for. Booth walked purposefully among the graves, knowing where each of his friends was spending eternity.

They passed the Vietnam Helicopter Pilot and Crewmember Monument honoring the nearly 5,000 helicopter pilots and crewmembers killed during the fifteen year Vietnam conflict. Parker knew his father had been present at the April 18th 2018 dedication in Section 35. Recognition of veterans was important to Booth, who considered the small granite marker long overdue.

(As a favor to his beloved grandfather, Booth had gone out of his way to insure that Pops and Edwin attended the opening of the US. Air Force Memorial in 2006. Its three spires were modeled after the contrails of Thunderbirds dispersing in a 'bomb burst' maneuver, and the agent thought it might bring significant closure to his jet pilot father who "flew Thuds and Phantoms in Vietnam". Thanks to AA, the man who had abused him and Jared no longer drank, but was paying the price for a lifetime of alcoholism.

Realizing that PTSD had haunted Edwin, Booth acquiesced gracefully to give Hank Sr. a treasured experience with his son and grandson. And surprisingly, the middle Booth had 'played nice' for the occasion, silently touched by Seeley's kind gesture. A haltingly scribbled letter later found in 2012 among Edwin's effects expressed the gratitude and admiration he couldn't come out and say. After Pops' death in 2015, their shared day was a good memory for Booth.)

Meanwhile, members of Tiger Den 26 were busy planting miniature flags amid the gleaming white tombstones. Holding hands, Charlie and Prentice followed their son, watching him carry out his duty with serious attention. They glanced at each other with fond pride and love. Once the allotted number of flags had been placed, the little boys were free to wander with their parents for an hour. Charlie pulled out his I-phone and placed a call to Booth, wondering how people kept track of each other in the vast cemetery before cell phones.

The Booth clan had just finished their peanut butter/Coca Cola salute to James Rawlings, and were ready to head back to the Mighty Hut II. Since Aubrey and Jessica would be joining their feast, the lanky agent had offered to fire up Booth's smoker, getting the hickory and mesquite chips charred just right before the others returned. As the two families pulled into Booth's driveway, they could smell the fragrant smoke wafting from the back patio.

Max and Tommy were anxious to swim, and it was all Meredith and Prentice could do to prevent them jumping in the pool fully clothed. A rumbled command from Booth brought them back in line, and they patiently stood waiting for their mothers to produce swim suits and towels. Christine joined her mother and Daisy in the kitchen where coleslaw, German potato salad, tofu-veggie burgers, steaks, hot dogs, and Angus patties were stored in the fridge.

Aubrey had arrived earlier than his wife and daughter, since Jessica was expecting baby #2 any day. Rachel was a prim little lady compared to Max and Tommy, and rolled her eyes at Aunt Angela as she helped fold brightly colored paper napkins for their dinner. Christine smiled at the pair, remembering how she and Michael Vincent had colored flags and stars to decorate the table and keep them occupied while past Fourth of July dinners were prepared. Angela had always been a master at conjuring up simple art projects to keep her son and others productively busy and out of mischief. Michael was in Great Falls, Montana at present; becoming established in his job as the newly-appointed curator of the Charles M. Russell Museum there.

Missing this annual 4th of July celebration, Cam and Arastoo were in Mississippi with their sons for the month, preparing the after-school center they'd established for September's next group of eager students. Tyler and Isaiah had come up with the idea after graduating from Jackson State University.

Both boys had won extensive scholarships and completed degrees in Meteorology and Public Health Administration. Tyler's interest in weather arose from memories of losing their Gulfport home to Katrina. Isaiah had chosen his major after Hamid's death in Iran from recurrent cancer. Their youngest brother was a high school senior working with D.C. Headstart for the summer. He had promised to drop by if possible.

After launching their sons into the air repeatedly with plenty of splashing, Charlie and Parker fished Tommy and Max out of the pool after one last flight, and dried them off for dinner. Rachel Warren's fuschia and lime green ruffled swimsuit was still dry, tucked under a lime green cover-up, but Aubrey knew he'd be recruited as a child-launcher in the pool the moment she had finished her tofu hot dogs. That left him far too little time to enjoy Booth's superbly-seared steaks and grilled vegetable kabobs.

Brennan had obtained Sid's recipe for Sinfully Dark Chocolate Cake, and made it each year, along with a blue-berry/strawberry striped American Flag angel food cake. There was plenty of natural vanilla ice cream in the freezer, as well as fruit juice popsicles for the little ones... and Parker.

Hank had set up folding tables and chairs to accommodate their unconventional extended family. He carefully lifted Rachel up to peek into the treehouse Booth had built years ago. Enjoying carpentry as he did, the younger Booth son had maintained it since age twelve. His Eagle project would be constructing small stages and podiums for the Sunday School rooms at St. Patrick's Catholic Church where his father and he still worshipped each week. Once Seeley Lance arrived from coaching soccer, the two boys moved to the back of the spacious yard and took turns shooting goals into the practice net there. By the time Brennan called dinner, each sported a few bruises from playing goalie.

Once all the food was set out in the kitchen, everyone loaded their plates, grabbed a drink from the cooler Hodgins had stocked with ice, and found a seat. As the chaplain aide for his troop, Hank stood up and gave a brief thanksgiving for their freedoms and the feast at hand, before everyone dug in. Excited conversation was replaced by the clatter of flatware and tumblers of ice cubes and sweet tea.

"Nobody makes better sweet tea than yours, Caroline!" Booth remarked happily.

The soon-to-retire prosecutor beamed at him. "Thank you, Cher. It's my Great-Tante Louise's recipe. A small sprig of mint added while you steep it, and plenty of real sugar. None of that low-calorie _dreegailles_!"

As the teenagers finished eating, they jumped into the pool for a game of water polo. The men banked the smoker's fire, and cleaned the charcoal grill, while Christine and Angela packed left-overs for everyone to take home. Hank and Seeley binned the paper plates and napkins, folded and stored the tables, clearing the trash.

Once dinner and desserts were consumed, dishes were cleared, and food stored, Hodgins carried a box from his car out to the back yard. He handed out sparklers, snakes, and poppers to the adults and teenagers. Rachel, Tommy, and Max frowned in dismay.

"Never fear, kids! You may try these, but only with your parents' supervision, okay?" Hodgins soothed.

By the time everyone had a turn with the smoky, pungent fireworks, dusk had fallen. Sudden loud booms sent the children running for their mother's laps. Meredith, Prentice, and Jessica pulled little hands away from their eyes as the pop and sparkle of Rockville's fireworks display appeared above the trees.

"I never get tired of watching fireworks," Booth declared happily.

"I never get tired of setting them off!" responded Hodgins. "I wish Michael Vincent was in town; we'd have put on our own display for all of you!"

Angela eyed her husband with a smirk. "And both of you would have singed fingers again, Hodgie!"

An hour later, the guests gathered their towels, lawn chairs, and food, thanked their hosts, and departed. Booth and Brennan walked, arm and arm, to their back porch and settled in the Adirondack chairs. Parker and Meredith settled Max in bed after copious goodnight hugs and kisses. Christine and Hank doffed their tshirts and shorts, and jumped back into the pool.

Across town, Charlie and Prentice eased their sleepy son into his pajamas, slipped him between his Toy Story sheets, tucked his brown bear under his limp little arm, and kissed his forehead. Closing the door partway, they looked back in at their son, and shared a hug. It had been a memorable Fourth of July.

Note: ' _Dreegailles_ ' is the Cajun word for junk. If there is a more suitable term, I couldn't find it. I defer to FaithinBones if she does.


End file.
